Like Clockwork
by YandereSchizo
Summary: Toris Laurinaitis is a struggling mechanic and introvert, who's life is a tedium of never ending debt. Each day ticks by in a similar fashion, like clockwork. But when he saves the life of a young man named Feliks, who offers to pay off his debt for help disappearing, Toris gets sucked into a journey he never planned on taking. Steampunk!au, LietPol and other ships. M/M
1. Chapter 1

Being introvert doesn't mean you're shy. I mean, shyness is a part of it, but when you get down to the root of it, an introvert is simply a person who doesn't like company. That's me. Toris Laurinaitis. I'm more than a bit of an introvert. I'm not saying I hate company; I just prefer to be alone. Like I am now.

I worked silently on the steam droid in front of me, once in a while adjusting my goggles. I'm not a mechanic, by any means, but I'm pretty handy when it comes to gears and steam power. I guess that's why people ask me to fix stuff like this. I don't charge anywhere as much as official mechanics, plus I insure honest actually fixed job. Some don't. They half-ass it and simply wait to steal more of your money when whatever malfunctions. But at least they can pay for their houses. I can't.

I sighed loudly. I couldn't concentrate on this, not with more troubling manners weighing on my mind. Like I mentioned, I can't really pay for my house. Or supplies. Or food. So I get loans. But the problem borrowing money is you have to pay it back, with interest. At this point, I've already sold my arm to pay the loan sharks back. At the memory, my left hand clenched. It's robotic built from scraps and gears I had lying around. Nothing fancy. I lost- (well, sold is a more appropriate word) it when I needed money about a year ago. Along with my mother special rose quartz necklace. It was my prized possession, but it was that or my kidneys, and a necklace is not as vital to my life processes as a kidney. If she were alive, she would understand. And an arm, as I already explained, was easily replaced.

I really don't get why anyone would want my arm, though. But I got paid and was able to, for the most part, get Ivan off my back. Ivan, for all intents and purposes, owns me. He's my loanshark, and as forementioned owner. I owe him so much money I won't be able to pay it off, ever.

"Toris?" A voice broke me from my worried days. I looked up, and it's Alfred, the guy whose steam droid I'm fixing. I lived at his house as a live-in servant for a while, so I know him pretty well. That's why she trusts me with his droids maintenance. But the fact he travels all this way across the ocean every year for it astounds me.

"Sorry, all clear!" I gave what I hoped was a convincing smile. Alfred has, on more than one occasion, offered to pay Ivan for me. I have always declined.

"Oh, good! How much do I owe you?" Al asked, digging through his wallet. He pulled out a pocket watch, a stick of gum, a small jackknife, and a lot of other things. I sighed again.

"Nothing, Mr. Jones. Remember? We're friends." As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"No, no, no! That's why I have to pay you! And if it's because I had to track all the way over here from the UNR on a sky steamer, I come here this time of year anyway!"

I stared at him for a little while, one eyebrow cocked.

"Oh, yeah! Remember? I'm the president of the UNRCS! World meetings, and all!"

I blinked a few times. "Oh, taip." I had forgotten.

"Yeah, so no problem, dude!" He finally found the money. I took off my gloves and unthinkingly reached out with my left hand. I heard Alfred gasp, and I realize my second mistake of the night. My arm.

"Toris! What happened?"

Truth or lies, truth or lies...

Lies.

"I got in an accident. No biggie." I shrugged it off and retracted my hand. I pulled off my goggles and hung them on a hook in my workshop. My workshop, also known as my house, is crowded and too hot, with junk and unfinished projects everywhere. But it's home.

"Dude! Why didn't you tell me?" Alfred said, exasperated.

"I couldn't. It's not important. Anyway that'll be 100."

Alfred pursed his lips, and handed me a bill. I glanced it over, and gaped.

"No, Alfred! This is too much. 10,000? That's... No Alfred, I can't!"

"Sh..." Alfred hushed me. "Stop talking." I opened and close my mouth a few times. I was stunned. I couldn't even protest as he said goodbye, grabbed his droid, and next it my house/shop.

"Alfred, no! Come back!" I screamed, louder then I meant to. But he was gone.

I heard footsteps pattering down the stairs and winced. Crap.

"Toris! You okay?" The kind round face of my landlady, Irunya, popped into my quarters.

"What, you having boyfriend troubles?" A second face appeared. Irunya's beautiful younger sister, Natalia, also appeared.

"Not gay." I stated. I had a crush on Natalia, but she was convinced I was gay.

"Okay, then..." Irunya said, disappearing again. "As long as you're sure."

"Yeah." Natalia said. Then she saw the money in my hand. "What, you whoring yourself out? Pfft. My big brother won't want soiled money." She spat. Natalia was Ivan's adopted sister, as was Irunya. Natalia, well, even if she was mean, I liked a strong woman. In truth, her words barely phased me.

"It's not dirty. I got for doing droid maintenance." I said, trying to sound impressive, to no avail. Natalia just stared at me with a look of bored contempt. She flipped her hair and strode back upstairs. I took a deep breath and promptly deposited the bill into my money jar.

"Well," I muttered to myself. "Only 75,962.38 left. With interest." I closed my eyes. At the time I thought, why do these things always seem to happen to me? But, that wasn't the worst thing that was going to happen me that night. Not even close.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone! Welcome to my first posted hetalia fic. I got the first 2 chapters out pretty quick, but after this, I don't really have a set schedule. I'll post when I get the chapters done. No promises after that. This fic is significantly better then my previous one, so I hope you enjoy!

* * *

*Click click click*

The soft sound of gears filled my house, offset by the occasional creek of the settling floorboards. It's nights like these that I can't sleep. There's too much on my mind. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, before getting up and switching on the light. I grabbed a broom and set to cleaning the entirety of the apartment. I did the dishes, cleaned up my projects, washed floor... Hell, I even scrub the toilets. By the time I got the place sparkling, it was only 11:00 PM. Jeez, I needed a life, if this is what I did when I couldn't sleep. I made a large cup of coffee and sat down in my favorite chair. It was almost calming. But, I couldn't seem to become tired.

I inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly. I want to go for a walk, but... The city is dangerous at night. With deletion droids, desperate crooks, and the occasional sky pirate, getting robbed or killed was not uncommon. Should I go?

...

With a sigh, I pushed myself out of my chair. This was not a good idea, but I really needed to get out. I grabbed my goggles off the hook and put them on. God, this was stupid. But it wasn't as if I could go out during the day. Too many people.

The night was pleasantly warm. A soft summer breeze blew through my hair, and I wished I had tied it back. My light brown hair is roughly shoulder-length, and when I work, I pull it back out of the way.

I went to push it out of my face with my left hand, but jumped when the cool metal stroked my cheek. I had forgotten briefly about my amputee status. I tucked my hair behind my ear, and then got to walking.

The city was always prettier at night. When it was dark, you couldn't see the beggars and even the dead along the streets. Another bonus is that there was none of the hustle and bustle that the daytime brought. I looked up at the sky. The steam and smoke that rose from the factories and houses blocked out some of the stars, and a few sky steamers flew over. I wondered briefly if Alfred was on one. Then I reached where I was probably subconsciously going, anyway. The noble family, the Lukasiewicz's, Estate. Most just called it "The Manor".It was huge, surrounded by giant gates and fences. It never failed to amaze me. How could it be, that while people lived in such luxury in there, people here died in the streets and sold their limbs for money to eat. A little unfair, but that's life, I guess.

Absorbed my thoughts, I zoned out, staring at the ornate building. I'm not sure how long I stood there, but I was suddenly jerked from my stupor by a loud thud.

After a few seconds of flailing, I glanced around. Then I spotted something. A mass, curled up next to the Manor, seeming to have fallen out of one of the top windows. I ran up to the fence to get a better look, and seemed what fell was a person!

I started to panic, looking around once again, this time for someone to help, anyone. But there was no one. What I did next was my third mistake of the night. Fourth, if you include going out in the first place. It seemed as if tonight for me was just one bad choice after another. I took out my scissors from my toolbelt, which I carry with me everywhere, and proceeded to cut through the fence. I blame the adrenaline for me doing such stupid things. I could be executed, or imprisoned, or even worse, Branded.

Branded people are convicted criminals that have hot metal pressed on to their skin, marking them forever. If you have a brand, you're required to show it where ever you go, and no one has to treat you well. You're barely even a human being. Many branded commit suicide within a year of branding. I'd prefer death, too, personally.

I made quick work of the fence, and ran to the person inside. I checked them over quickly, no sign of broken bones or bleeding. When I moved them around, they let out a slight groan.

"It's okay I gotcha..." I muttered, though I knew they couldn't hear me. I pulled them up, even though I knew they could have head trauma. Really, I wasn't thinking straight. I slung the lifeless mystery person over my shoulder. They were surprisingly light, considering they probably had excess to as much food as they wanted. I dragged them to my house, (I had an impossible time trying to get them through the fence.) and plopped them on my bed. I sat down at the foot of the bed and pulled up my goggles. Placing my head in my hands, I let out a long sigh. Jeez, I need a smoke. But I hadn't been able to afford a cigarette for a while. They were bad for me, anyway, so it was for the best. I glanced over at the motionless body through my fingers.

"God, what was I thinking?" I stood and began to pace. "...what if it's a spy? What if the deletion droids come? Damn! I'm screwed!" I could feel myself getting worked up into a frenzy. Calm down Toris, you'll have a panic attack. Breath. In and out, in and out.

For the first time since I found the person, I took a good look at them. I hadn't noticed before, but they were kind of attractive. Light blond hair, curling down as far as their waist, and a carefully made-up face. Even with these factors, I couldn't tell what gender this person was. I knew that in the higher classes, long hair and makeup were popular with both genders. As I studied their face, their eyes shot open. It made me jump, and I practically fell off where I had reclaimed my seat on the bed.

"Who are you? They said, shooting up into a sitting position. "Where am I?" I simply gaped at them, though. Their eyes were heavy lidded, giving them a sleepy look, but the green orbs sparkled with defiance. Their voice was deep as well. Not what I was expecting. What was I expecting, anyway?

"Well, you going to, like, answer me?" I blinked, then nodded.

"Oh, sorry. I am Toris Laurinaitis, and this is my hou-"

"Male or female?"

"What?"

"Male. Or. Female." They demanded again.

"Male. Is it that hard to tell?" I tugged my hair a little. "Does it matter, anyway?"

"No. I was just making sure. Lately gender has been a problem." They collapsed back onto the bed. "Ugh. Everything, like, totally hurts."

"You fell from the Manor." I said. "It's to be expected. Who are you, anyway?"

They muttered something like "doesn't matter", but I simply raised my eyebrows them. They rolled their eyes.

"I'm no one. My name is F..." They trailed off for a second. "It's Feliks. Spelled KS, not X."

"So you're a guy? I couldn't tell. Rich people fashion is strange." I commented offhandedly. Feliks glowered and I shrank back a little. "Sorry."

"You have, like, some scissors?" He asked, twirling some of his long blonde hair.

"Yeah. Why?" I gasped "You're not suicidal, are you?"

"No, dumbass. I just, like, got to do something." I held my scissors out and he snatched them. "You got a mirror?" I shot up and fetched one. He grabbed it, too.

"I don't want to do this, but..." He set the mirror up on his lap, and picked up a thick tuft of hair.

Snip, snip.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"Cutting my, like, hair. Duh." He tied a small knot on the tuft he just chopped off to keep it together, and set it to the side. He was cutting it a little shorter than mine, but he didn't have bangs like me. He proceeded to cut all of his hair as short as he made the first bit. I simply stared. His hair was so pretty, like Natalia's, why would he want to cut it?

When he finished he put it all his hair in a pile off to the side, brushing a few stray strands off of the scissors.

"Like I said, don't want to do this." He held out his arm, and before I could even think to stop him, he drove the blade down into his arm.

Both Feliks and I swore in unison

"You are suicidal!"

"Am not, dumb ass!" He dug his hand into the wound. I ran away from him, the sight of blood making me woozy. I begin to rip drawers out of desks, searching, searching...

"Felix, just hang in there!" I found what I was looking for, my sewing kit. I sprinted back as fast as I could.

"Dammit."

Felix was lying splayed out on my bed, bleeding badly. His face was covered in blood, as if he tried to bite the wound open further. He clasped something in his other hand, and his eyes were triumphant.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God." I started cleaning the wound as fast as possible. Why didn't I grab a cloth? Instead, I snatched up my pillow and pressed it to the wound. Felix looked at me in a mixture of pain and fading pride. As if what he'd done just set in and I needed to fix it. Well crap. Looks like I definitely would not be getting to sleep tonight.


End file.
